Fair Game

Self-destructive in the most productive way
I wish I could help
But you can do this yourself

To exorcise the ghosts that promise you the most
They haunt your motivation
As you raise your expectation

Guilt and fear lead you always back here
The place where you trace
Each perfection to its grace

Building towers hour by hour under an empty shower
Of gifts and curses, strollers and hearses
Poems without stanzas and songs without verses

I so desire to set your wildfire
Ablaze against this madness
And to cure you of the sadness

But each day, like the undead, you press ahead
A few more inches till six feet under
Even immaculate can look like blunder

Whose chains do you still cling when you sing these empty songs
Disappointment in the shadows
Anointing hopeful hearts but who knows

All I want is to show you the love that grows and always flows
Like rivers to the ocean
Catch you in some new commotion

But for now let's slow it down, okay
I'm right here
No more tears